HENRY VIII. AND ANNE OF CLEVES.
(1539-1540.)
At the period which we have now reached, Henry VIII. displayed in a
more and more marked manner that autocratic disposition which submits
to no control. He lifted up or cast down; he crowned men with honors
or sent them to the scaffold. He pronounced things white or black
as suited him, and there was no other rule but his own absolute and
arbitrary power. A simple and modest princess was one of the first to
learn by experience that he was a despot in his family as well as in
church and state.
[Sidenote: ANNE OF CLEVES.]
Henry had now been a widower for two years--a widower against his
will; for immediately after the death of Jane Seymour he had sought
in almost all quarters for a wife, but he had failed. The two great
Continental sovereigns had just been reconciled with each other, and
the emperor had even cast a slight upon the king of England in the
affair of the duchess of Milan. Henry was therefore now desirous of
contracting a marriage which should give offence to Charles, and should
at the same time win for himself allies among the enemies of that
potentate. Cromwell, for his part, felt the ground tremble under his
feet; Norfolk and Gardiner had confirmed their triumph by getting the
Six Articles passed. The vicegerent was therefore aiming to strengthen
at once his own position and that of the Reformation, both of them
impaired. Some have supposed it possible that his scheme was to unite
the nations of the Germanic race, England, Germany, and the North,
in support of the Reformation against the nations of the Latin race.
We do not think that Cromwell went so far as this. A young Protestant
princess, Anne, daughter of the duke of Cleves and sister-in-law of the
elector of Saxony, who consequently possessed both the religious and
the political qualifications looked for by the king and his minister,
was proposed to Henry by his ambassadors on the Continent, and Cromwell
immediately took the matter in hand. This union would bring the king
of England into intimate relations with the Protestant princes, and
would ensure, he thought, the triumph of the Reformation in England,
for Henry's wives appeared to have great influence over him, at least
so long as they were in favor. Henry was, however, seeking something
more in his betrothed than diplomatic advantages. Cromwell knew this,
and did not fail to make use of that argument. 'Every one praises the
beauty of this lady,' he wrote to the king (March 18, 1539), 'and it is
said that she surpasses all other women, even the duchess of Milan. She
excels the latter both in the features of her countenance and in her
whole figure as much as the golden sun excelleth the silver moon.[304]
Her portrait shall be sent you. At the same time, every one speaks
of her virtue, her chastity, her modesty, and the seriousness of her
aspect.' The portrait of Anne, painted by Holbein, was presented to
the king, and it gave him the idea of a lady not only very beautiful,
but of tall and majestic stature. He was charmed and hesitated no
longer. On September 16, the Count Palatine of the Rhine and other
ambassadors of the elector of Saxony and the duke of Cleves arrived
at Windsor. Cromwell having announced them to the king, the latter
desired his minister to put all other matters out of his head, saving
this only.[305] The affair was arranged, and the ambassadors on their
departure received magnificent presents.
The princess, whose father was dead and had been succeeded by his son,
left Cleves at the close of the year 1539, in severe winter weather.
Her suite numbered two hundred and sixty-three persons, among them
a great many _seigneurs_, thirteen trumpeters, and two hundred and
twenty-eight horses. The earl of Southampton, Lord Howard, and four
hundred other noblemen and gentlemen, arrayed in damask, satin, and
velvet, went a mile out of Calais to escort her. The superb cortége
entered the town, and came in sight of the English vessels decorated
with a hundred banners of silk and gold, and the marines all under
arms. As soon as the princess appeared the trumpets sounded, volleys
of cannon succeeded each other, and so dense was the smoke that the
members of the suite could no longer see each other. Every one was in
admiration. After a repast provided by Southampton, there were jousts
and tourneys. The progress of the princess being delayed by rough
weather, Southampton, aware of the impatience of his master, felt it
necessary to write to him to remember 'that neither the winds nor the
seas obey the commands of men.' He added that 'the surpassing beauty of
the princess did not fall short of what had been told him.' Anne was of
simple character and timid disposition, and very desirous of pleasing
the king; and she dreaded making her appearance at the famous and
sumptuous court of Henry VIII. Southampton having called the next day
to pay his respects to her, she invited him to play with her some game
at cards which the king liked, with a view to her learning it and being
able to play with his majesty. The earl took his seat at the card-table
in company with Anne and Lord William Howard, while other courtiers
stood behind the princess and taught her the game. 'I can assure your
majesty,' wrote the courtier, 'that she plays with as much grace and
dignity as any noble lady that I ever saw in my life.' Anne, resolved
on serving her apprenticeship to the manners of the court, begged
Southampton to return to sup with her, bringing with him some of the
nobles, because she was 'much desirous to see the manner and fashion of
Englishmen sitting at their meat.' The earl replied that this would be
contrary to English custom; but at length he yielded to her wish.[306]
[Sidenote: HER ARRIVAL IN ENGLAND.]
As soon as the weather appeared more promising, the princess and her
suite crossed the Channel and reached Dover, whence, in the midst
of a violent storm, they proceeded to Canterbury. The archbishop,
accompanied by five bishops, received Anne in his episcopal town, in
a high wind and heavy rain; the princess appearing as if she might be
the sun which was to disperse the fogs and the darkness of England, and
to bring about there the triumph of evangelical light. Anne went on
to Rochester, about half way between Canterbury and London. The king,
unable to rest, eagerly longing to see his intended spouse, set out
accompanied by his grand equerry, Sir Anthony Brown, and went incognito
to Rochester.[307] He was announced, and entered the room in which
the princess was; but no sooner had he crossed the threshold and seen
Anne, than he stopped confused and troubled. Never had any man been
more deceived in his expectation. His imagination--that mistress of
error and of falsehood, as it has been called--had depicted to him a
beauty full of majesty and grace; and one glance had dispersed all his
dreams. Anne was good and well-meaning, but rather weak-minded. Her
features were coarse; her brown complexion was not at all like roses
and lilies; she was very corpulent, and her manners were awkward. Henry
had exquisite good taste; he could appreciate beauties and defects,
especially in the figure, the bearing, and the attire of a woman. Taste
is not without its corresponding distaste. Instead of love, the king
felt for Anne only repugnance and aversion. Struck with astonishment
and alarm, he stood before her, amazed and silent. Moreover, any
conversation would have been impossible, for Anne was not acquainted
with English nor Henry with German. The betrothed couple could not
even speak to each other. Henry left the room, not having courage even
to offer to the princess the handsome present which he brought for
her. He threw himself into his bark, and returned gloomy and pensive
to Greenwich. 'He was woe,' he said to himself, 'that ever she came
unto England.'[308] He deliberated with himself how to break it off.
How could men in their senses have made him reports so false? He was
glad, he said, that 'he had kept himself from making any pact of bond
with her.' He thought that the matter was too far gone for him to
break it off. 'It would drive the duke her brother into the emperor
or French king's hands.' The inconvenience of a flattering portrait
had never been so deeply felt. It is not to be doubted that if at this
very moment the emperor and the king of France had not been together
at Paris, Henry would have immediately sent back the unfortunate young
lady.[309]
[Sidenote: HENRY'S DISAPPOINTMENT.]
Shortly after the king's arrival at Greenwich, Cromwell, the promoter
of this unfortunate affair, presented himself to his majesty, not
without fear, and inquired how he liked the lady Anne. The king
replied,--'Nothing so well as she was spoken of. Had I known as much
before as I do now, she should not have come within this realm.' Then,
with a deep sigh, he exclaimed, 'What remedy?'[310] 'I know none,'
said Cromwell, 'and I am very sorry therefor.' The agents of the
king had given proof neither of intelligence nor of integrity in the
matter. Hutton, who had written to Cromwell that the princess was not
beautiful, and Southampton, who had had a good view of her at Calais,
had both spoken to the king only of her beauty. On the following day
Anne arrived at Greenwich; the king conducted her to the apartment
assigned to her, and then retired to his own very melancholy and in an
ill humor. Cromwell again presented himself. 'My lord,' said the king,
'say what they will, she is nothing so fair as she hath been
reported ... howbeit, she is well and seemly.' 'By my faith, sir,'
replied Cromwell, 'ye say truth; but I think she has a queenly manner.'
'Call together the council,' said Henry.
The princess made her entry into London in great pomp, and appeared at
the palace. The court had heard of Henry's disappointment and was in
consternation. 'Our king,' they said, 'could never marry such a queen.'
In default of speech, music would have been a means of communication;
it speaks and moves. Henry and his courtiers were passionately fond
of it; but Anne did not know a single note. She knew nothing but the
ordinary occupations of women. In vain did Cromwell venture to say
to his master that she had, nevertheless, a portly and fine person.
Henry's only thought was how to get rid of her. The marriage ceremony
was deferred for a few days. The council took into consideration the
question whether certain projects of union between Anne and the son
of the duke of Lorraine did not form an obstacle to her marriage with
Henry. But they found here no adequate ground of objection. 'I am
not well treated,' the king said to Cromwell. Many were afraid of a
rupture. The divorce between Henry and Catherine, the cruelty with
which he had treated the innocent Anne Boleyn, had already given rise
to so much discontent in Europe that people dreaded a fresh outbreak.
The cup was bitter, but he must drink it. The 6th of January was
positively fixed for the fatal nuptials. The king was heard the day
before murmuring in a low tone with an accent of despair,--'It must be;
it must be,' and presently after, 'I will put my neck under the yoke.'
He determined to live in a becoming way with the queen. An insuperable
antipathy filled his heart, but courteous words were on his lips. In
the morning the king said to Cromwell,--'If it were not for the great
preparations that my states and people have made for her, and for fear
of making a ruffle in the world, and of driving her brother into the
hands of the emperor and the French king's hands, being now together,
I would never have married her.' Cromwell's position had been first
shaken by his quarrel with Norfolk; it sustained a second shock from
the king's disappointment. Henry blamed him for his misfortune, and
Cromwell in vain laid the blame on Southampton.[311]
On January 6 the marriage ceremony was performed at Greenwich by the
archbishop, with much solemnity but also with great mournfulness. Henry
comforted himself for his misfortune by the thought that he should be
allied with the Protestant princes against the emperor, if only they
would consent somewhat to modify their doctrine. On the morrow Cromwell
again asked him how he liked the queen. Worse than ever, replied the
king. He continued however, to testify to his wife the respect due to
her.
It was generally anticipated that this union would be favorable to the
Reformation. Butler, in a letter to Bullinger at Zurich, wrote: 'The
state and condition of that kingdom is much more sound and healthy
since the marriage of the queen than it was before. She is an excellent
woman, and one who fears God; great hopes are entertained of a very
extensive propagation of the Gospel by her influence.' And in another
letter he says: 'There is great hope that it [the kingdom] will ere
long be in a much more healthy state; and this every good man is
striving for in persevering prayer to God.'[312] Religious books were
publicly offered for sale, and many faithful ministers, particularly
Barnes, freely preached the truth with much power, and no one troubled
them.[313] These good people were under a delusion. 'The king,'
they said, 'who is exceedingly merciful, would willingly desire the
promotion of the truth.'[314]
[Sidenote: FALLACIOUS HOPES.]
But the Protestantism of the king of England was displayed not
so much in matters of faith as in public affairs. He showed much
irritation against the emperor; and this gave rise to a characteristic
conversation. Henry having instructed (January, 1540) his ambassador
in the Netherlands, Sir Thomas Wyatt, to make certain representations
and demands on various subjects which concerned his government, '_I
shall not interfere_,' drily replied the grand potentate. Wyatt having
further made complaint that the English merchants in Spain were
interfered with by the Inquisition, the emperor laconically answered
that he knew nothing about it, and referred him to Granvella. Wyatt
then having been so bold as to remark that the monarch answered him in
an ungracious manner,[315] Charles interrupted him and said that he
'abused his words toward him.' But the ambassador, who meant exactly
to carry out his master's orders, did not stop, but uttered the word
ingratitude. Henry considered Charles ungrateful on the ground that he
had greatly obliged him on one important occasion. In fact, the emperor
Maximilian having offered to secure the empire for the king of England,
the thought of encircling his brows with the crown of the Roman
emperors inflamed the ardent imagination of the young prince, who was
an enthusiast for the romantic traditions of the Middle Ages. But,
after the death of Maximilian, the Germans decided in favor of Charles.
The latter then came to England, and the two kings met. Not very much
is known of what they said in their interview; but whatever it might
be, Henry yielded, and he believed that to his generosity Charles was
indebted for the empire. '_Ingratitude!_' replied the emperor to the
ambassador. 'From whom mean you to proceed that ingratitude?... I would
ye knew I am not ingrate, and if the king your master hath done me a
good turn I have done him as good or better. And I take it so, that
I can not be toward him ingrate; the inferior may be ingrate to the
greater. But peradventure because the language is not your natural
tongue, ye may mistake the term.' 'Sir,' replied Wyatt, 'I do not know
that I misdo in using the term that I am commanded.' The emperor was
much moved. 'Monsieur l'ambassadeur,' he said, 'the king's opinions
be not always the best.' 'My master,' Wyatt answered, 'is a prince
to give reason to God and to the world sufficient in his opinions.'
'It may be,' Charles said coolly.[316] His intentions were evidently
becoming more and more aggressive. Henry VIII. clearly perceived what
his projects were. 'Remember,' said the king the same month to the duke
of Norfolk, whom he had sent as envoy extraordinary to France, 'that
Charles has it in his head to bring Christendom to a monarchy.[317] For
if he be persuaded that he is a superior to all kings, then it is not
to be doubted that he will by all ways and means ... cause all those
whom he so reputeth for his inferiors to acknowledge his superiority in
such sort as their estates should easily be altered at his arbitre.'
These words show that Henry possessed more political good sense than
was usually attributed to him; but they are not exactly a proof of his
_evangelical_ zeal.
[Sidenote: THE SAXON AMBASSADORS.]
He did something, however, in this direction. Representatives of the
elector of Saxony and the landgrave of Hesse had accompanied Anne of
Cleves to England. Henry received them kindly and entertained them
magnificently; he succeeded so well in dazzling them by his converse
and his manners, that these grave ambassadors sent word to their
masters how the nuptials of his majesty had been celebrated under
joyful and sacred auspices.[318] Nevertheless, they did not conceal
from Henry VIII. that the elector and the landgrave 'had been thrown
into consternation, as well as many others, by an atrocious decree,
the result of the artifices of certain bishops, partisans of Roman
impiety.' Thereupon the king, who wished by all means to gain over
the evangelical princes, declared to their representatives 'that his
wisdom should soften the harshness of the decree, that he would even
suspend its execution, and that there was nothing in the world that
he more desired than to see the true doctrine of Christ shine in all
churches,[319] and that he was determined always to set heavenly truth
before the tradition of men.' In consequence of these statements of the
king the Wittenberg theologians sent to him some evangelical articles,
to which they requested his adherence, and which were entirely opposed
to those of Gardiner.[320] We shall presently see how Henry proceeded
to fulfil his promises.
Cromwell was anxious to take advantage of these declarations to get
the Gospel preached, and he knew men capable of preaching it. He
relied most of all on Barnes, who had returned to England with the
most flattering testimonials from the Wittenberg reformers, and even
from the elector of Saxony and the king of Denmark. Barnes had been
employed by Henry in the negotiation of his marriage with Anne of
Cleves, and had thus contributed to this union, a circumstance which
did not greatly recommend him to the king. There were, besides, Garret,
curate of All Saints' Church, in Honey-lane, of whom we have elsewhere
spoken;[321] Jerome, rector of Stepney, and others. Bonner, who on his
return from France was elected bishop of London, and who was afterwards
a zealous persecutor, designated these three evangelical ministers to
preach at Paul's Cross during Lent in 1540. Bonner, perhaps, still
wished to curry favor with Cromwell; or perhaps these preachers had
been complained of, and the king wished to put them to the test.[322]
Barnes was to preach the first Sunday (Feb 14); but Gardiner,
foreboding danger, wished to prevent him, and consequently sent word
to Bonner that he should that day preach himself. Barnes resigned the
pulpit to this powerful prelate, who, well aware what doctrine the
three evangelicals would proclaim at St. Paul's, was determined to
prevent them, and craftily to stir up prejudices against the innovators
and their innovations. Confutation beforehand, he thought, is more
useful than afterwards. It is better to be first than second; better
to prevent evils than to cure them. He displayed some ingenuity and
wit. Many persons were attracted by the notion that the Reformation
was a progress and advance. He alleged that it was the contrary; and,
taking for his text the words addressed to Jesus by the tempter on the
pinnacle of the temple, _Cast thyself down_, he said: 'Nowadays the
devil tempteth the world and biddeth them to cast themselves backward.
There is no forward in the new teaching, but all backward. Now the
devil teacheth, Come back from fasting, come back from praying, come
back from confession, come back from weeping for thy sins; and all is
backward, insomuch that men must now learn to say their Pater-Noster
backward.'[323] The bishop of Winchester censured with especial
severity the evangelical preachers, on the ground that they taught the
remission of sins through faith and not by works. Of old, he said,
heaven was sold at Rome for a little money; now that we have done with
all that trumpery the devil hath invented another--he offers us heaven
for nothing. A living faith which unites us to the Saviour was counted
as nothing by Gardiner.
[Sidenote: BOLDNESS OF BARNES.]
On the following Sunday Barnes preached. The lord-mayor and Gardiner,
side by side, and many other _reporters_, says the Chronicle, were
present at the service. The preacher vigorously defended the doctrine
attacked by the bishop; but unfortunately, he indulged, like him, in
attempts at wit, and even in a play upon his name, complaining of
the _gardener_ who would not take away the tares from the garden of
the Lord. This punning would anywhere have been offensive; it was
doubly offensive in the pulpit in the presence of the bishop himself.
'Punning,' says one, 'the poorest kind of would-be wit.' Barnes,
however, appears to have been conscious of his fault; for before he
closed his discourse he humbly begged Gardiner, in the presence of all
his hearers, to lift up his hand, if he forgave him. Gardiner lifted
up only a finger. Garret preached energetically the next Sunday; but
he studiously avoided offending any one. Lastly, Jerome preached, and
taking up the passage relating to Sarah and Hagar in the epistle of St.
Paul to the Galatians, maintained that all those who are born of Sarah,
the lawful wife, that is, who have been regenerated by faith, are fully
and positively justified.[324]
Bishop Gardiner and his friends lost no time in complaining to the king
of the 'intolerable arrogance of Barnes.' 'A prelate of the kingdom
to be thus insulted at Paul's Cross!' said the former ambassador to
France. Henry sent for the culprit to his cabinet. Barnes confessed
that he had forgotten himself, and promised to be on his guard
against such rash speeches in future. Jerome and Garret likewise were
reprimanded; and the king commanded the three evangelists to read in
public on the following Sunday, at the solemn Easter service celebrated
in the church of St. Mary's Hospital, a retractation which was
delivered to them in writing. They felt bound to submit unreservedly
to the commands of the king. Barnes, therefore, when the 4th of April
was come, ascended the pulpit and read word for word the official paper
which he had received. After this, turning to the bishop of Winchester,
who was present by order of the king, he earnestly and respectfully
begged his pardon. Having thus discharged, as he believed, his duty,
first as a subject, then as a Christian, he felt bound to discharge
also that of a minister of God. He therefore preached powerfully the
doctrine of salvation by grace, the very doctrine for which he was
persecuted. The lord-mayor, who was sitting by Gardiner's side, turned
to the bishop and asked him whether he should send him from the pulpit
to ward for that his bold preaching contrary to his retractation.[325]
Garret and Jerome having followed the example of Barnes, the king gave
orders that the three evangelists should be taken and confined in
the Tower. 'Three of our best ministers,' wrote Butler to Bullinger,
'are confined in the Tower of London. You may judge from this of our
misfortunes.'[326]
[Sidenote: EDITIONS OF THE BIBLE.]
At the same time that Henry VIII. was imprisoning the ministers of
God's Word, he was giving full liberty to the Word itself. It must be
confessed that in his conflict with the pope he did make use of the
Bible. He interpreted it, indeed, in his own way; but still he used
it and helped to circulate it. This was a fact of importance for the
Reformation in England. The first Bible named after Cranmer appeared at
this time (April, 1540), with a preface by the archbishop, in which he
called upon 'high and low, male and female, rich and poor, master and
servant, to read it and to meditate upon it in their own houses.'[327]
A magnificent copy on vellum was presented to the king. In the same
month appeared another Bible, printed in smaller type; in July another
great Bible; in November a third in folio, authorized by Henry
VIII., 'supreme head of his church.' It would seem even that there
was one more edition this year. At all events, the New Testament was
printed.[328] The enemies of the Bible were in power. Nevertheless the
Bible was gaining the victory; and the luminary which was to enlighten
the world was beginning to shed abroad its light everywhere.